


Cavemen

by CMDAK



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Possessive James Bond, butchering of history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7099339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is too weak to be of the warrior class and too smart to be nothing more than a picker. 007, a son of the tribe's Supreme Mother and one of the best warriors they had seems pleased with hovering around after Q and sharing his meat with him. </p><p>Cavemen AU as requested by a nice anonymous on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cavemen

**Author's Note:**

> First, a moment of silence since I am sure that I mixed up a ton of periods in here. Second, I hope you enjoy readying this as much as I did writing it.

They had been blessed by the Unseen Parents to exist in a place that was both full of all plants that didn’t make them feel ill and animals that were full of meat. Many others wanted to take this land away from them, but the Unseen Parents had also made sure to gift them with mostly strong people who were good when it came to defending them – _mostly._

Every now and then, one of the mothers created a child that was too weak to be a fighter and that they originally thought that they were of the kind that also created. But their chests never swelled, they never bleed without a wound from between their legs, and they had that extra finger that grew in size when rubbed. One such child they all called Q.

 

He was so frail and thin that his mother always tied him down to rocks when the breath of the sky was too strong, afraid that he would be blown away. He couldn’t lift rocks and when he tried to throw their weapons, it landed unceremoniously two steps in front of him. So they kept him around to pick the plants, cut the animals they were going to eat, and make clothes. At those things, he was a master and many of their tried liked him for that, Q even having an extra talent of creating better weapons.

 

And yet, all those things weren’t enough for any of the child bearers to want to want to be with him because they were afraid that the children they’d make would doom them all. It was a bit painful for Q to sit at the yearly fire dances and see everyone dance around him and end up in the laps of others, the warriors giving the child bearers the furs of the largest beats they had taken down that year, head knocks exchanged if the two planned for their union to last more than that year.

 

Frail Q just sat on his rock, arms wrapped around his legs, watching with a heavy heart as almost every child bearer threw themselves at their best warrior and namely 007 – as he was the seventh of their Supreme Mother’s children. He didn’t look at 007 with envy, but with longing. He was, in fact, more upset with the ones who were lucky enough to be graced with the other’s presence for seven suns – or more, if the warrior was satisfied with the child bearer – and would sneak back in his mother’s cave as soon as 007 was claimed.

 

He made sure to hide his interest in the other and he was quite proud of himself for that, especially since he was named their official weapon creator when the hair fully covered his chin – something he hated because it itched like mad and he couldn’t understand how so many of their warriors wore that hair with pride, their mates putting coloured flowers in them in the seasons that followed the extreme cold – and he ended up spending more time with the warriors and their weapons than with the child bearers and their baskets.

 

That position was a blessing for Q because that meant that all the warriors were going to give him a piece of meat from their prey while in the past, since he couldn’t bear children and couldn’t fight, he was usually given the leftovers of the animals to feed on. But what kept him from wasting away before he became their weapons’ master was the fact that even when he was nothing more than a picker, 007 who had the third biggest piece after their Supreme Mother and the warrior that had fathered him, threw chunks of meat at his feet, grunting and growling at everyone that dared to go near that piece that wasn’t Q.  

 

Q was also a lot happier now because 007 liked to hover around him when he was working on his weapons, touching and poking everything his eyes fell on. That wasn’t always the best idea since he sometimes cut himself, but Q knew how to take care of wounds so he would put his tools aside when 007 was bleeding from his fingers and nursed him.

 

The man always grinned at him when Q did that, poking his nose or tugging on his hair with the hand that wasn’t being attended to. And Q liked that, but he did his best not to smile when 007 did that, although the other did find out one day that if he poked his side, he’d have him rolling on the ground, laughing – and he did that every time he thought Q looked too serious or when he saw him moping around their camp because he was missing this or that material to create whatever weapon had haunted the inside of his head for days or because the material he was working with wasn’t doing what he wanted it to do.

 

One day, after having stared at him for most of it when everyone sat down to eat and even when he went with the child bearers to pick the plants that were ripe – because he still did that every now and then, missing his presence of his mother and the child bearers that she had created even if the Supreme Mother was never happy when she caught him doing that – he dragged Q to his cave and sat him down on a rock, brandishing one of the sharpest tools that he had.

 

Q got scared when he saw that and made to run, confused as to why the man would try to kill him, but 007 easily grabbed his leg and dragged him back, sitting on his chest. “Sit,” he ordered and pushed his head back, weapon almost touching his neck. “Sit!” He ordered again, sighing when he heard Q whimper. “Getting rid of hair,” he explained and dragged the weapon against his own chin, making some of the hair fall, but no blood to spill. “Hair bothers you,” he continued when he saw how confused Q was looking at him, “I take care of hair because you take care of me so sit.”

 

He closed his eyes and did as he was told, 007 stopping every time he felt him shiver to growl and tug on his hair to get him to sit still again. By the time they were finished, the sun had disappeared and when they walked out of 007’s cave, Q noticed that many of the younger members were looking angrily at him.

 

The Supreme Mother walked up to him, frowning as she looked at his face. “Is Q sick?” She asked carefully, clearly worried as she ran her hand over his face, looking for the hair that was no longer there. “Q must go see—”

 

“Hair bothered him; I fixed it,” 007 announced proudly, turning Q’s head around for the curious onlookers to see. “Q hate hair there, I fix; I Q’s fixer.” He pulled him to his chest and ruffled his hair before rubbing their cheeks together. “I liked hairy Q, but I like Q’s face now as well.”

 

For the rest of the night, Q felt like he was floating because of 007’s words and he wasn’t bothered when the younger ones tried to trip him or stole the pieces of meat – not that they actually got to enjoy them, as the warriors and Supreme Mother charged at them, forcing them to give Q his food back. Better still, after Q was pushed off his rock, 007 moved to eat with him and no one dared to try anything else.

 

His chin started to tingle like the hair was coming back after a few days and the Supreme Mother calmed down and stopped shouting and smacking 007 because it seemed that the hair on the face also grew back so it meant that the warrior didn’t damn or make their new weapon master sick. In fact, more started to rid themselves of that hair, warriors included, which also worked out great when they fought off invaders, because they thought they were dealing with children and underestimated them. 

 

“I broke them,” 007 suddenly grunted in his ear one day, throwing the pieces of the weapons that had taken him ten suns to make and the thing that beat in Q’s chest like a drum started going faster and hurt because he felt like he had insulted the man with the weapons that he had struggled for suns on end to create. “But they were good,” 007 added quickly when he heard Q start to make small noises of distress, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “I brought down all by myself the big fur with weapons in his mouth.” He straightened his back and hit his chest three times, a show of superiority.

 

“Weak like me,” Q muttered, trying to make himself look smaller. It saddened and upset him that something he had thought would last forever wasn’t good enough to last a single hunt. “I am not worthy.” The Supreme Mother should have left him pick plants and make furs and food with the child bearers for the rest of his life and she would have probably done just that if it hadn’t been for her noticing that the tools he was using were different, better.

 

007 growled and forced Q to push his chest forward, hitting him in it only once before hurrying to gather him from the ground. “They were good,” he insisted, grabbing the green herbs he knew Q used when he was in pain, rubbing them over his chest. “Eat more so you get stronger,” he said before dragging in a large chunk of meet in Q’s cave and pushing him towards it. “Yours, just yours; you and only you eat. Others eat, I beat them,” he growled towards the entrance of the cave, shouting until the curious onlookers tripped on their feet to run away.

 

This time, Q’s inner-drum didn’t hurt him when it beat and he was quick to grab his other tools to prepare the food. Of course the chunk of meat was too much for him to eat even if 007 tried to help him by pushing more pieces of it in his mouth and he was well aware of that. At least 007 managed to figure out that before his insides became outsides and he stopped, guarding Q’s meat until the man took it back to his cave.

 

“Q food,” 007 shouted for everyone to hear. “I know how much Q has left and know his mark; if I see it smaller later and without his mark, I pull out the dull weapons from the mouth of whoever dared,” 007 continued to warn as loudly as he could, poking his head inside Q’s cave to smile at him. “I protect you and your food so you sleep well.”

 

Q tried to mirror the other man’s smile, but his face hurt. “I sleep,” he said while rubbing his cheeks, freezing when 007 moved closer to him to touch his face. “I am okay.”

 

“No pain?” 007 growled, unsure at what exactly he was to glare and Q rested his hands on top of his.

 

“No pain,” he reassured him and then tried to push him out before all the available child bearers that wanted 007 came running with weapons towards  him – he didn’t understand why those were the ones that suddenly hated him and his mother was not inclined to explain anything.

 

007 put both his hands on Q’s head and slowly turned it around, eyes narrowed as he checked to make sure that there was no wound before nodding and grunting, tugging on Q’s hair before making his way out of the man’s cave.

 

That night, Q woke up a few times before he thought someone was looking at him, clutching his weapon tightly just in case an animal had managed to sneak in his cave. But his eyes always landed on blue ones and after squinting a few times to try and see who was in his cave and determine if they were a threat or not, large hands always found their way in his hair and down his back and lulled him back to sleep.

 

“Q safe,” a deep voice said. “Q sleep; I keep Q safe,” the voice continued and Q always realized that it was 007 right just before going back to sleep.

 

When the sun broke through the ground, Q left the camp with the meat neatly packed in one of the first good basked he had made. It was a long trip and it usually took a whole sun to go to the cave that constantly had water come out of its cold walls and back to their camp, but that place kept their food from smelling back and making them sick.

 

The trip was also full of dangers, especially if you had food with you and although Q had been lucky enough not to run into any of the animals that would have no trouble with tearing him to shreds while making his way to the cave, his luck completely ran out on his way back. The sun had long gone from the sky when the animal with even sharper weapons in its mouth jumped out in front of him, snarling and drooling.

 

Q told himself that he should have stayed in the cold cave until the sun was in the sky again, as this animal would have fallen for sure in one of the many traps that he himself had designed, but he would have frozen to death if he did that as he did not have any proper furs. So he gulped and closed his eyes when the creature lunged at him, hoping that he would die fast.

 

But instead of his screams of pain, he heard those of the animal and when he peeked through his fingers, he saw 007’s back, the man holding one of the new weapons that was not quite finished in his hands, its sharp end that had been dipped in a mixture that made people drowsy completely shoved in the attacker’s heart.

 

“Dumb,” 007 shouted at him right before he pulled out his large knife and attacked the creature that was now only letting out small noises of pains, stabbing it until it ceased breathing. “Dumb,” he shouted again, his large hand connecting with the back of Q’s head. “When you walk away from safety, you come to me so we go together.” He moved to grab Q’s hand and slapped his chest with it. “I keep you safe at all times, okay? I protect you, always and forever for all and everything. You don’t get hurt because I protect.”

 

“You’re important, I am not. You feed us, I eat.” Q said slowly, flinching when he saw 007’s large hand move back up.

 

“Q important; Q very good weapon master that puts all the others to shame,” 007 shot back, carefully resting his hand on the back of Q’s neck and squeezing it to get him to look at him. “Q more important than me to me no matter what, understand?”

 

Q let out a little a noise and 007 moved away, throwing the dead animal over his shoulder and grabbing the other’s hand, practically dragging him back to their camp. Because of the weapon 007 used, Q made it clear that the meat was not to be eaten as it might make them sick – not that they needed even more meat – but it was perfectly okay to use the animal’s fur. And Q couldn’t wait to get his hands on that fur and turn it into something beautiful for the man as gratitude for saving him, but 007 threw him in his cave and dumped the dead animal on the new ones that were tasked with handling the furs.

 

Ashamed for having being scolded by 007 – and later by the Supreme Mother, but by now this was something that happened constantly so he wasn’t really affected by that anymore – Q kept to his cave for seven suns, not working on anything. All he ate was what his mother brought him, surprised because he constantly found more meat than berries and other fruits in the food basket. And on the day that the 8th sun left the sky, 007 marched in his cave and threw him over his shoulder, walking out.   

 

“Everyone comes to this,” 007 said gently as he placed Q on the closest rock to the fire, ruffling his hair. “You come to this as well, Q.”

 

Groaning when he realized that it was time once again for their mating ritual, Q pulled his legs to his chest when he saw that 007 didn’t plan on letting him go. “I can skip; I am weak,” Q tried to explain and 007 just gently smacked him upside the head, their Supreme Mother clapping her hands and hitting her chest to announce that the ritual had started.

 

As usual, the young child bearers where the first to make their pick and as expected, most of them went directly for 007. But today, unlike in the past, the man turned his head and pushed them off his lap, huffing. Q was surprised by this and finally, after so many cold periods that he had seen, he was quite entertained by this and interested in how everything it would end.

 

A few older child bearers that had been with 007 in the past tried to get him once again, but 007 also turned them down. The other ones had learned by then that the warrior wasn’t interested in this and avoided them, going to the others who were more than happy to accept their propositions.

 

When the fire had died down and the last of the child bearers and warriors united for the rest of their lives – because that was always the final part of this ritual – Q got up and made to leave. But the Supreme Mother stopped him and the fire was relit, a few of the other elders ordering the drum beating to restart.

 

Only when 007 appeared in front of the fire, wearing the skin of the animal that had almost killed Q did the weapon master realize that the man had been missing for quite a few unions. 007 started to dance and Q looked to the left and right, curious to see who the warrior was courting, jumping when large hands landed on his head to get him to look back at the dance.

 

“Asking Q something, so pay attention,” 007 grumbled and patted Q’s head a few times before he moved back to the fire and continued his dance while the others shouted and hit the drums harder.

 

Q only really got what 007 was asking – although during this ritual, there was only one thing asked – when the animal skin was placed on his shoulders. “Not a child bearer,” he snapped, jumping on his feet and throwing the skin on the ground, much to the shock of everyone around them. 007 picked up the skin and tried to put it back on Q’s shoulders once again, but Q slapped his hands away and snarled. “ _Not_ a child bearer,” Q insisted and ripped his clothes, taking 007’s hands, placing one on his chest and one between his legs to make sure the under got his point. “Q not warrior and weak, but Q still Q and Q can’t bear children!”

 

He expected 007 to growl and be upset because he had turned down so many offers from child bearers whose bodies promised to carry so many of his offspring and others from child bearers who had done just that in the past for him. But 007 just smiled, squeezed Q’s part that separated him from the child bearers before carefully moving his hands away and bumping their heads together, wrapping the beautiful skin around Q again.

 

“Q weapon master, I know,” he said carefully and started to dance again. “But I like Q and I want Q and maybe Q wants me?” He tried, eyes full of hope, hand extended towards him because no unifications could be done in their group unless both parties agreed.

 

Q thought for a moment and he eventually gave the man his hand, allowing him to lead the dance as this was the first time he ever found himself on the receiving end of one – or in one, in general, strangely enough never looking at the child bearers as someone he could mate with – and their dance continued well into the night, the longest one that anyone had ever witnessed.

 

But the two didn’t care, often going off from the precise steps that they were supposed to follow, Q laughing and twirling and 007 more than happy to push him to his chest and lift him in the air, rubbing the back of his neck as Q wrapped his legs around his middle, twirling in the silence that fell after the drums stopped and everyone retreated to their caves.

 

They eventually returned to this and 007 carefully lowered Q on the fresh pile of furs that had been brought in by their respective mothers, their people’s way to bless their temporary union even though it was known that no children would come out of this.

 

It was only then, when Q felt the soft furs under him and looked up at a happy 007 who was removing his clothes that Q was struck by fear. He had no idea what to do, no idea what would follow, no idea if the man he had feet attracted to like a hungry animal to hulk of meat would understand this and be patient with him or if he would turn out to be a cruel beast and hurt him.

 

“Q scared,” 007 said suddenly, sitting down on the furs at an arm’s length from him and Q quickly nodded, wrapping his arms around his legs. 007 was clearly confused by that and he looked like he wanted to force Q to sit up straight again so he could hit his chest for him, but realized that would be a bad idea and subdued his instinct. “I protect Q, I don’t hurt Q,” he said instead, opening his hand and presenting it to Q, a silent question if the other man could trust him and his words.

 

And Q was quick to grab on to it because he still associated 007 with safety even if he was the reason why he was feeling like this. The other man’s smile became bigger and moved closer, pushing Q’s back against his chest. When 007 started to move both of them to lie down on the furs, running his hands over his inexperienced mate’s sides, it resulted in Q biting his lower lip to the point of drawing blood and closing his eyes, whimpering and shaking in anticipation of pain.

 

But all 007 did other than that was carefully turn Q’s head to him and suck on his lower lip until the blood flow stopped and then closed his eyes. “I keep Q safe,” he whispered in his ear, hugging the man tightly to his chest. “I don’t hurt Q, I protect Q.”

 

When the sun appeared on the sky again, Q woke alone. He clutched his chest because it hurt and he let out a dejected whine because 007 had abandoned him. A silly thing, he realized it because their union was not a permanent one, it wouldn’t produce a child, and they didn’t actually unite beyond the ritual, so of course 007 would abandon him the second he fell asleep, especially when it was well know that the warrior liked to stay for days on end on the furs with his newest mate.

 

“Why sad? Hurt? Chest hurt? Who hurt Q?” 007 asked suddenly, hands patting down the shocked Q’s chest, growling as he looked left and right. “I hurt who hurt Q!”

 

Before 007 could start tearing the cave apart in search of the nonexistent villain who had brought pain to his partner, Q grabbed his shoulders and pushed his face against his neck. “No one,” he whispered. “Q scared and hurt himself.” He knocked on his head and tugged on his hair. “Will you hurt Q for hurting Q?”

 

007 looked confused, unable to process how Q could hurt himself when he didn’t have any tools around himself and when it didn’t seem like he had tripped and hit himself on the ground or rocks in his cave. “Silly,” he said eventually, starting to suck on Q’s lower lip and pulling him in his lap.

 

They sucked on each other’s lips and rubbed against each other until Q felt like he wanted and needed more so he took a risk and slipped his hand between them to tug on his own member because he felt like he would explode if he didn’t do that. He intended to roll off of 007, duck in the deep end of the cave where he sat when the cold days came and relieve himself of the tension where his mate couldn’t see him, but 007 stopped him.

 

“Q and 007 together,” he said softly, taking the other man’s free hand and squeezed it. “If Q wants, 007 do everything with Q if Q wants. _Everything_ ,” he all but growled and bumped his lips against Q’s, “but only if Q wants.”

 

Q thought, but not about fear as he did the previous night and then tested by moving away from 007 and covering himself. If 007 growled and made to grab him, then Q would run out and ask the Supreme Mother to break their union. But 007 did what Q hoped he would do and lowered his head, accepting his temporary mate’s decision.

 

Happy with that, Q let out a howl before throwing himself at 007, startling him. “Q wants,” he said excitedly, hitting 007’s shoulders with his fists, mashing their lips together. “But Q doesn’t know, so don’t hurt Q too much.”

 

Cupping Q’s face and pushing his wild hair out of his eyes, 007 smiled. “007 teach Q slowly what do to.”

 

***

 

007 had a tendency to fool everyone’s expectations, so no one was really shocked when more than enough suns had passed since his usual interest in his new mate was supposed to fade. In fact, his infatuation with Q had increased as the warrior never too far away from the weapon master if he wasn’t outright literally attached to his mate via lips to the neck or arms that were tightly wrapped around his chest.

 

The prey 007 brought back was also a lot more impressive as were the furs and countless other trophies the man could rip from the animals. That did get him hurt a lot more times which visibly upset Q, the younger man even becoming the healer’s sort-of apprentice because of his mate’s recklessness and wish to impress him – which was useless because Q assured him that he would never dare think of another mate when the ritual came again, even if that mean that he would be alone once more. 

 

“Q never alone,” 007 assured him, tripping him to make him fall over him, ignoring the obvious pain he felt from his wounds.

 

“Q alone forever if 007 isn’t more careful on hunts,” Q scolded him, knocking on his head. “Q very upset with this because 007 could have died. Beast fast, beast’s weapons very sharp, and 007 a good warrior but still could die.”

 

“Weapons sturdy—”

 

“Skin soft and easier for animals bigger than you to pierce,” Q interrupted before 007 could finish, huffing and turning away from him, arms crossed on his chest. 007 tried to wrap himself around Q and pacify him, but the other man grunted and shoved him. “Q is very angry!”

 

“Beloved—”

 

“007 sleeps in his own cave,” Q interrupted him, trying to push his mate out, “because 007 dumb and scared Q.”

 

For 007, it would have made more sense for his scared mate to demand that he stay glued to his side constantly for at least seven suns, but it seemed that Q had other plans that sent 007 in a panic. What if Q wouldn’t take him back after today? What if, while he turned left and right on his dusty and cold furs, others managed to capture Q’s interest and heart? He saw the way 009 looked at his mate, a glint in his eyes that almost mirrored what he had the first time he noticed Q.

 

“Go,” Q ordered again, lips pushed in front, eyes narrowed, finger pointing at the exit. “Q too upset to deal with you right now.”

 

007 grunted and made to argue, but Q stomped his foot and pointed at the exit again. It would have been easy to throw his mate over his shoulder and then hold on to him until a new sun appeared in the sky and if he added a few lip brushes here and there and combine them with a few grunts of pain, Q was sure to forgive him instantly, thus ensuring that no other would dare use this _little_ misunderstanding to rip them apart.

 

Between the coldness of his empty cave and the harsh winds of the world at night, 007 decided that it was better to set up camp right outside Q’s cave. Using a worn out fur as covers and clutching his weapon, 007 glared at everyone who even dared to glance in the direction of his mate’s cave, snarling at the older warriors who mocked him.

 

“Mate that stays behind when warriors fight is right to be upset with idiot who throws himself in danger,” the Supreme Mother’s came from seemingly nowhere, startling 007. “And 007 is the biggest idiot M brought into this world,” the woman concluded, smacking upside the head. “If 007 get sick, Q will be even more upset.”

 

Before 007 could say anything, a thicker fur was thrown over his head and he heard Q’s sleepy grumbles. Sleep came instantly after that because it meant that he was almost forgiven and because he was surrounded by Q’s smell – although he didn’t sleep too long because Q decided to drag him back in their cave.

 

“Q will make better weapons and clothes so 007 stops get hurt,” Q promised as they snuggled together, falling asleep halfway through their lip brushing.

 

And true to his word, Q struggled to create better clothes for their warriors and better weapons to keep all of them safe – and mostly his mate. With that determination in his mind and soul, he continued to amaze everyone around him with the things he made, the Supreme Mother having to turn down more than a few tribes who had offered amazing things that they had never seen before.

 

But Q was never seen as a bargaining chip by their leader and would never be seen as one, even if that meant that they had to hold their ground and fight a few tribes – thankfully, not at the same time and Q pointed out that since they all wanted him, they would never think of uniting their forces.

 

Not that they had any trouble winning as Q’s weapons were sharper, more durable, even flexible and 007 was more than determined to crush everyone who came at him. The fights never lasted long and soon, a rumour spread that Q was one of the Creators who had taken flesh upon himself because of a warrior.

 

With peace one more ruling their lands, the Supreme Mother had created a special group of five people – they were too strong to be simple pickers, but not strong or fast enough to be actual warriors and they had no patience with learning the ways of the healer – which were tasked with finding new material for Q to mould into new toys for his mate first, and the rest of his people later.

 

The woman ended up almost regretting doing that because 007 couldn’t stand it when he thought others managed to impress Q even more than he did so he nagged the her until she agreed to letting him go out with the Finders’ on one of their missions. 007 returned, bruised and bleeding, but the Finders’ had brought Q rocks with a yellow that glittered under the suns that he had never seen before.   

 

“Pretty, but weapons break easily,” Q explained to the Supreme Mother when he was done separating the yellow from the rocks. “They do cut deep if 007 wields them,” of course 007 would be Q’s way of comparing how much force was needed for his creations to inflict damage and the Supreme Mother fought to keep from rolling her eyes when she saw the warrior stuck his chest out in front of himself, proud that his mate thought so highly of him, “but the blade snaps too quick for the animal to die.”

 

007 grabbed the pieces of the broken weapon and held them against Q’s skin, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “This yellow looks better on Q than in battle,” he said and the world around them melted around them as they bumped their heads together, nibbling on each other’s lips.

 

“M reminds 007 and Q that M is still here,” the Supreme Mother grunted, only to get even more ignored as the warrior dropped the sparkling yellow in favour of helping Q wrap his legs around his waist, the two making their way back to their cave even though the Supreme Mother had not dismissed them. “M so annoyed that M can’t even punish 007 and Q for this right now,” she added, holding back the warriors that were assigned with her protection and ensuring that he word was followed.

 

It was also amusing to see the proud powerful warrior – whose name had started to be such a legend that other blood-hungry went out of their way to avoid the tribe he came from – carry around a basket of wicker and glaring at plants until he found one that he thought his thin mate would approve of and which would earn him a longer connection of lips and brush of tongues.

 

He rarely found the right plants on his own and he often managed to stick his hands into the ones that made his skin tingle and turn red – I don’t even know how many times 007 did this; Q wonders if 007 got hit in the head by others one too many times – and some speculated that he was doing it on purpose because Q fawned over him even more than before even if he banished the warrior outside their cave for a few hours once he was healed.

 

By the time the cold season passed and they had to redo the union ritual again, a lot of people were curious and interested in Q. What was it about the man that had 007 so enthralled? Not that he wasn’t pleasing to the eyes even if he lacked the muscles of a warrior or the hips of a child bearer, but 007’s attention span was extremely short so what was it about him? They knew he was smart, they awed at his creations, he was caring, and pleasing to have a conversation, but how was he as a mate?

 

Driven by that curiosity, many of the dances at the ritual were for him, even though his mate through the seasons was sitting dutifully by his side, held back by Q from attacking his rivals. “Q turns down on Q’s term,” the weapon master snapped at 007 after the fifth warrior danced for him.

 

“007 want to punish them for thinking they are worthy of Q’s attention,” 007 snarled, sighing in defeat when Q grunted and snarled at him. “But 007 will hold back because Q wants 007 to,” he concluded, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He’ll put them all back in their place when they trained and make sure to have as many bite marks as possible so all would understand that Q chose him and not them.

 

And then some child bearers danced for Q, pushing their hips in his face to show off just how many children they could make if only he’d give them a chance. And 007 was fuming because he had mated with a few and he knew what they were capable of and they were pleasing to the eye and—

 

“007 only mate Q wants, even if Q left alone forever,” Q whispered in his ear before biting down hard. “Even if 007 dumb every now and then, Q adores 007.”

 

Happy at those words, 007 almost ran back to the cave with Q in his arms, stopped only by the Supreme Mother’s smack upside his head. “This time of ritual and ritual must be respected,” she snapped and slapped 007 one more time just to be sure. “If ritual is desecrated, then misfortune will befall 007 and Q until next ritual.”

 

Still, the woman remembered how impatient both herself and the one she had accepted to as her lifelong partner were and allowed for 007’s dance to come earlier than planned. When Q accepted the beautiful fur and the shiny necklace that was made out of the sparkling yellow without even really looking at them, some of the couples that had just united exchanged glances as the ones that had accepted the proposals were jealous of the gifts Q had gotten.

 

Of course Q didn’t really care about what 007 presented him other than his love. As far as he was concerned, the warrior could come to him with nothing but a stick and he would still have accepted the proposal.

 

The third ritual between then was concluded with 007 asking a Q decked in sparkling yellow from head to toe to be his mate for good, Q accepting even before the dance was done. But what surprised people was that instead of 007 being the one to initiate the head-bumping, which would have made him the head of the house, he urged Q to do it, throwing himself on the ground and starting to kiss up Q’s leg after that was done.

 

The heavy fur gave both men a hard time getting back to their cave and Q instantly dropped it the second they stepped in, their rubbing interrupted by the fact that the Supreme Mother was there alongside the other elders, waiting to complete the permanent uniting ritual.

 

She had Q place his hand up against the wall after dipping it in a substance that coloured and then 007 place his next to Q’s. They did that again and then they had them place their hands on top of each other on the opposite wall and threw a bowl of the colouring liquid over them, leaving behind a mark that represented their permanent union.

 

***

 

Technology was an amazing thing, Q thought as he sat in the middle of the cold room and carefully examined each drawing that was being projected on the walls. It looked and felt as if he was in the actual cave, a shiver running up his spine when he glanced at the two figures encased in ice that were locked in an eternal hug. He wondered if anyone knew what had happened to them and he was tempted to walk back to the reception and get an audio guide, but he was supposed meet with James Bond and pass along the latest equipment that he would no doubt destroy and the agent had the uncanny ability of getting into trouble if he was left alone.

 

“The first time we met, it was in an art museum,” Bond said softly from behind him, the agent shooting him his usual cocking smirk when Q turned to glance at him. “Then we met in that health bar I don’t ever want to remember, then in a cinema where you shushed me five times in a row, in front of an opera house when you were wearing an actual suit—”

 

“Does this have a point, 007, or do you simply wish to amaze me with how many things you manage to remember despite your age?”Q interrupted him, unable to stop himself from teasing the man.

 

Instead of countering with a quip about how young Q looked or how he had almost mistook him for a Dalmatian – the agent’s favourite one by far – Bond ignored him. “And then there were that really noisy bars in which you looked as if you were at home in your colourful clothes while I stood out like a sore thumb...” He trailed off and hummed, leaning closer to examine a drawing of two hands. “I am starting to think we’re actually dating on MI6’s time and funds, especially since none of the other agents got their starter equipment or extra one from you in such interesting places.”

 

Q huffed and rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. “None of the other agents attract danger on their downtime, 007.” He unzipped his bag and started digging through it. “Now, this is supposed to be—”

 

“They’re men?” Bond asked instead, walking directly to the middle of the room and pushing his face almost up against the glass that separated to large chunk of ice from the room. “They’re holding each other like lovers would.”

 

Eyebrow arched, Q shook his head. “Yes they were men and they were lovers, according to what this plaque says.” So it would seem that he wouldn’t need to go back to the entrance when he was done with the agent. “Also, I never thought you were the kind of person who would judge people, 007.” Q sounded and was honestly disappointed. But he reminded himself not to judge others for their way of thinking. Explain why it wasn’t the best to do so and hope to get them to understand, but never judge. “Then again, I always think you would bother to bring back at least the bloody earwig.”

 

“First, I am not judging them I am amazed that back then people had more brains than we do today,” James defended himself, tapping the glass once before Q swatted his hands away as if he was an unruly child, “and secondly, I did bring you back an earwig once.”

 

Q’s eye twitched. “It was in a jar and it was an actual earwig,” he snapped, shivering when he remembered the ghastly things. “That was a most childish of pranks, if you were to ask me.”

 

“Yes, but need I remind you that you got me back not two days later for that when everything even remotely electrical that I had in my apartment turned against me to the point that the coffee machine I got from my secret Santa started calling itself Hal 9000?” He leaned closer to Q, his Quartermaster smiling innocently up at him.

 

“I do seem to remember getting a call from you in which you were begging me—”

 

“I rarely beg and when I do, it’s in bed. Feel free to test this one out for yourself, although we might have to repeat the test a few times before you get me to do that,” Bond interrupted, winking.

 

Q sighed, shaking his head. “Going back to the reason why we are where, which isn’t that we are dating or anything silly like that,” Q hurried to add, holding his hand up to keep the agent from saying anything that would aggravate him even more, “and namely, your mission.” He pushed a black box against Bond’s chest and then slipped a phone and a set of keys in the inner pockets of his coat. “God have mercy on the modified Jaguar that I have given you, as well as on the usual coded gun, the _waterproof_ earwig, and the cell phone which will need to get next to the computer that’s your target in order for you to finish this mission.”

 

James did not even bother to look at the box, fixing out the keys and phone. “This is the only way you can get access to the computer, right?” He asked and Q nodded carefully, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I’ll protect it as if I had a tiny version of you tucked in my pocket.”

 

“Have Eve write my eulogy, please, and know that you are stuck with all of my bills as per my will and that R gets my cup and cats,” Q deadpanned, attention suddenly grabbed by the handprints. “And don’t even start with the bloody car; you get a Jaguar and you will like it and do more than your best to bring it back in one piece as it is on a sort-of loan from MI5.”

 

“They should all fall on their knees and kiss your feet for the improvements you made to it,” Bond muttered, moving closer to Q. “There are two like this and then a blob on the other side that looks as if their hands were one on top of each other.”

 

“This might have been part of their mating ritual,” Q said absentmindedly, looking around to see if he could find something that either confirmed his theory or offered a better one.

 

James hummed and pushed Q’s hand over the smaller hand drawing, placing his other hand over the larger one. “ _Similar drawings_ ,” a disembodied voice started to say and James nodded towards the sign that encouraged the touching of drawings that drew their attention for more information, “ _have been found all through the caves around the one from which the perfectly preserved specimens that are now on temporary display in this museum came. It is believed to be a mark of the couple that lived in the cave, although this might have been done only in temporary unifications, as the larger mark has been found in numerous other—”_

“So the big man was a prehistoric Casanova,” James said as he moved his hand away, pulling Q after him to look at the specimens. “But I doubt the smaller one was another notch in his cave walls, not if you are to go by the way he’s holding him.”

 

“Maybe he was cold and just trying to warm himself up?” Q offered, aware of how close Bond was to him and doing his best not to get affected by the warm breath that tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. “I mean, they do look like they have been frozen to death.”

 

“No, it looks like he had tried to keep his mate warmed up,” Bond corrected, pushing Q’s head slightly closer to the display case and indeed, the smaller man was almost completely hidden from the world in the larger man’s arms. “I think they died without feeling anything but each other’s love,” he added quickly as if he had sensed Q’s sadness.

 

“Maybe the other...” Q started, but trailed off in favour of elbowing the agent off his back so he could move to the other wall. “Maybe this mark has something to do with what you are saying?”

 

It looked like there were too hands placed one on top of each other and Q placed his over the smaller fingers, frowning when he heard nothing. He tried pressing the other mark and then placed both of his hands on top of them, James pushing up against him and rearranging his hand over the smaller one as he placed his on top. “Logic has it that they held theirs like this when it was made, so maybe if we held ours in the same way, we’ll get more information.” Nothing happened, so Bond pushed against Q’s hand harder, his chest flush up against the other’s back.

 

“Dear me, the sensors must be broken again,” a soft, kind, and old voice came from behind them and Bond instantly whirled around, completely covering Q with his body. “Though seeing you two trying to activate it like that does give me a great idea for a special on Valentine’s Day.”

 

“Who are you, if you don’t mind?” James asked the old man with a brown coat and red bowtie, positioning his hand to draw the gun he always forgot to return.

 

The man chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am the curator of this museum and...” He trailed off and drew closer to James, eyes sparkling with mischief as he patted the man’s hidden gun. “Although I was never an official MI6 agent, I have had the honour of helping you on some missions.” He glanced behind the agent and shot Q a kind smile, extending his hand. “I don’t think you remember me, as we’ve met when you were a Tier 1 boffin.”

 

Q narrowed his eyes for a moment and then suddenly grabbed the man’s hand and shook it, smiling at him. “Mister Smith, yes, I remember you. I thought that the co-worker who wanted nothing more than to see me rot in prison for being part of Anonymous had managed to sabotage the project that was to determine my future.”

 

“What?” Bond asked suddenly, turning to look at Q with narrowed eyes. “Who is this man? Is he still in MI6?”

 

The curator patted Bond’s back, trying to calm him down. “The good old Major took care of him, do not worry.” He drew closer to the agent, his smile turning all knowing – and annoying, if anyone bothered to ask Bond. “You’ll have to find a different way to impress your Quartermaster to the point of accepting to come here on Valentine’s Day.”

 

“Mister Smith,” Bond hissed, “it doesn’t do you any good to talk about things you don’t know anything about.”

 

Chuckling, the curator moved away from Bond and brushed his hand against the mark. “This was done when the couple finally decided to make their union a permanent one. It is also interesting to note that although the larger man had ‘tested the market’ numerous times before this, the smaller one seemed satisfied with just this man as his mate as we did not find his handprint in any of the other caves.”

 

The man continued to explain things and Q had completely forgotten that the agent was still there until he bumped in the man’s chest. “007, what are you still doing here?” He asked, rearranging his glasses. “Don’t you have a mission you’re supposed to be on?”

 

“Traffic is murder at this hour; I am waiting for it to die down a little,” Bond easily lied. “You could say that I am actually struggling to save some money on gas for MI6.”

 

Q rolled his eyes and looked apologetically at Mister Smith as he slumped down in a chair and pulled out his laptop. “I’ll make sure you have green lights until you get out London.” He took the keys from James’ pocket and both his phones, appearing to sync them to his laptop. “Now do hurry up because I one of your connection is a woman that’s very interesting in meeting you and getting help from you with betraying her boss.”

 

A hint of jealousy, was what Bond thought he heard in Q’s voice and glancing up at Mister Smith, the man nodded his head as if he approved of his hunch. “Q, about my earlier joke...”

 

“Be more specific, 007, as every other sentence you say is a joke,” Q teased, putting Bond’s keys and phones back in his pockets, frowning when the man grabbed his arm gently.

 

“The one with our secret dating,” James clarified. “How about we—”

 

“No,” Q said quickly, freeing himself. “Now off you go.”

 

“But, Q—”

 

“Bond, go on your bloody mission already,” Q snapped, sighing. “You’ll get whatever you have out of your system and laugh about what you were just about to say.”

 

The thing about Q was that if it was something he really didn’t want to do or give, there was no way of making him doing it – which made all the more amusing the times when Q looked directly at M and told the woman that 007 made him do it. And he was currently using his no ‘bullshit’ voice, which meant that no matter how much James tried to convince him otherwise, Q would still think he has a itch.

 

Thankfully, James knew what to do to make him see the truth. “If I ask you out when I get back, will you give me a chance?”

 

Groaning, Q pushed his glasses over his head so he could rub his eyes. “If I say yes, will you get your ass in the bloody field and actually bring back the Jaguar without a scratch?”

 

James grinned. “I will do my best, Quartermaster.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are love <3
> 
> -virtual cookies for realizing who the old curator was because I can't help but stick random people in-


End file.
